Iril had had no luck thus far, finding out who had assaulted the hide-away. Her first stop after leaving the Northern Woodlands, had been Telford. She managed to procure a small room at one of the lowly Inns, where she was able to rid herself of the arrow protruding from her shoulder. After bathing herself, quite thoroughly, she had climbed from the tub only to see the water tainted by dirt and blood...however, she was able to use her knowledge of healing to staunch her pain and the bleeding long enough to disinfect and suture herself up. Mind you, it was not her best stitch work considering it was upon herself. After three days of rest and healing, she was on her way again.
Heading East, Iril caught the Southern regions of Nuall where she inquired of anyone who would speak to her, if they knew anything or had heard anything unusual regarding the Northern Wooldands. To no avail, the Elfkind once again garnered a room. She always kept under the radar, simply taking the cheapest room in the cheapest Inn she could find. Even the undesirables did not dare tread into those run down, rickety shacks. She took the risk of running into trouble, but thankfully the facade was enough to keep the criminal element at bay and allow her time to regenerate. After another two days, Iril continued on her journey for answers.
It had been nearly three weeks of continuous travel, on foot, before Iril reached the grand city of Cor Cathair within Cordaire. She had only ever seen this place once before, when she was a child, but back then the hub of all business had still been somewhat in it's infancy. The weary Elfkind went to the Visitor Center first and foremost, to see if there be any names upon the list that she recognized. Then she signed herself in, but, naturally, she did not use her real name. She did not know who may have been keeping tabs upon her while she was trying to find answers, to which she was beginning to believe were not there.
She had not even found a hint of information that would tell her what may have happened in the Northern Woodlands, or who was behind it. All she knew was that they had been safe until Crixus had arrived.
After the Visitor Center, Iril roamed the city, and found an establishment that was right up her ally. Actually, it was more of a tavern with a few rooms for rent. The Knave’s Blade. The only available room left was one upon the second floor, which Iril did not mind considering she did not relish the idea of sharing her room with a perfect stranger, much less one of ill repute. After ordering a bath, Iril cleansed herself, sanitized and redressed her wounds, and then headed downstairs to get a drink and something to eat.
Being a woman of action and distrust, Iril chose a corner table, and sat within the chair that was nestled within the actual corner of the main floor. No one could sneak up behind her, that was for certain. There was a window not but a few feet from her where she could see the comings and goings of the tavern, but if anyone were trying to kill her, they would have to be within the establishment to get a straight shot. From this spot, there was also a perfect view of the door.
Ordering a grog, Iril sat back and awaited her food.